Test Drive - Samantha Chase Page 0,63
think we can agree that letting me drive is a bad idea.”
Surprisingly, he shook his head as he moved in close. “No. Letting you park is a bad idea. Your driving is just fine. Smooth. So smooth that I fell asleep. I think that speaks volumes right there.”
“Well, sadly, there’s no way to allow me to drive without eventually having to park, so…”
“You’ve got a point.”
“Anyhow…now that we’ve had our excitement for the day, let’s go inside and do a little shopping.”
“Seriously? You can think about shopping right now?”
“Levi, I’m going to need some time before I can get back in the car without suffering from PTSD or something. I say we do a little shopping, maybe grab a taco or two…”
“It’s almost dinnertime. And I was hoping for something more than tacos.”
“Consider it a pre-appetizer or just a snack,” she reasoned. “Either way, I know it’s too early for dinner, but I really do need some time before we get back in the car. Plus, you promised we’d stop here. What’s the point in stopping if I don’t get to explore?”
Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose, and she knew he was trying to stop himself from rushing her–or telling her she was crazy. Either way, she appreciated it. After a few moments, he said, “You’re right. It would be silly to stop and not go in and look around. Although it really just looks like a gas station, some gift shops, and a restaurant. I don’t see what…”
“There’s miniature golf too, but don’t worry, I really just want to look around and see what all the fuss is about. This place has been here since forever! There are billboards advertising it hundreds of miles away! Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?”
She reached for his hand and began tugging him toward one of the buildings.
“Willow, I really don’t consider a gift shop off an exit ramp to be an adventure?”
“Not even after the dramatic entrance we made to it?” she asked, feigning offense.
But he was on to her. With a dramatic sigh, he said, “You know what? You’re right. Anyplace that warrants that kind of entrance is bound to be amazing. We should ask about them putting your picture up on the wall–like a parking lot hall of fame or something.”
“Oh, my God! Do you think they’d do that? How cool would that be? I’d be famous!”
“Willow…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I’m just teasing.”
They walked through the doors of the gift shop and she didn’t know where to look first. It was all so bright and tacky and colorful, and she wanted one of everything! Releasing Levi’s hand, she ran over to a display of sombreros and put one on her head.
“What do you think? Am I a hat person?” And with a laugh, she picked another one and walked over and put it on his head. “Yes! We totally rock these sombreros! Wait! Where’s my phone? We totally need a picture!”
“It’s probably still in the car–which is locked, so relax,” he assured her. “But I’ve got mine right here.”
Then, pulling her in close, Levi held up the phone to get a selfie of the two of them, and Willow knew it was going to be her favorite memory of the entire trip.
You’re such a good friend.
Willow must have said that at least a dozen times over dinner and another dozen more while they drove to their hotel and booked a room.
With two beds.
Okay, fine, she was hitting him over the head with the fact that their fake relationship was over and so was the not-so-fake sexual part of it. He got it. He understood.
But that didn’t mean he liked it.
How the hell was he supposed to go back to just being friends–and sleeping in the same room as her–after everything that had transpired over the weekend? Sure, he’d dated plenty of women who he went on to be just friends with, but he never had to spend the night in a hotel with them afterward either.
“Maybe I should have gotten us separate rooms,” he muttered.
“Did you say something?” Willow asked as she came out of the bathroom, drying her hair.
Hoping he didn’t look too guilty, he forced himself to smile. “Just commenting on how this is a nice room.”
“It really is,” she said as she walked across the room. She sat down on her bed and looked at him. “I hate that you are the one paying, though.”
“Willow, we’ve been over this…”
“I know, I know. But